


A Christmas Revelation

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Post-Sirius in Azkaban, Romance, Sex, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmastime, and Sirius is still lying low at Lupin's. Feelings of unrequited love plague them both, and a confession leads to much satisfaction. Merry Christmas, everyone!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

The last several months have been hard on us all. We've tiptoed around each other for so long- it feels like you are afraid that I will shatter at any moment. Perhaps I will.

It feels so good to have you near me again- when my life fell apart before me I didn't have time to look at the big picture until I was thrown in hell and drowning in my own anguish. I didn't think of how much I'd miss you until it hit me full in the face- hard, like a fist made of ice. And God, it hurt.

I should have told you the moment you welcomed me inside this summer. You helped my weary body across the doorstep and cared for me like a real friend- and I never told you just what you'd meant to me.

Why? Was I afraid? I'd have enough to fear between my dreams and the reality that brews steadily in the world around us. And God knows I'd had enough of stewing on my own thoughts and emotions. Fourteen years too long, to be precise. But after we'd said our hellos and our "I've missed you"s, the words stuck in my throat. I couldn't bring myself to do that to you. You'd had enough time to live without me, and especially since now that it had come upon you to shelter me, I felt it would make you uncomfortable. That and I knew that there was no way that my feelings would be returned from my oldest, dearest friend. I know you love me- but your love stems from friendship, and for me to risk losing that was too much for me to bear that night.

\--

Falling softly, rain. The world outside your cottage looks so peaceful through the splattered windowpane. I can see your reflection, vaguely, in the glass, your elegant hands cradling a heavy book; spectacles perched precariously on the end of your nose. You look so calm. I can see streaks of gray in the hair that frames your face- it makes you look distinguished and scholarly, though, like I'd always dreamed; not old. Your eyes follow the words on the page at an incredible pace, and your mind is working just as quickly, I know.

You glance up, knowing I was watching you, and quickly I return my gaze to the falling rain. I should tell you. I know better than anyone that being trapped with your emotions is not good for your sanity. But I can't seem to bring myself to speak.

I can't tell you how wonderful it was to see you on my doorstep that stormy summer's eve. Though you were gaunt, haggard, and more tired than any person should ever be, it felt to me that a long lost part of myself had returned, not just an old, beloved friend.

We went through the niceties. And we've been living relatively peacefully together ever since. But as much as I'd looked forward to having you back, I never anticipated the radical differences. I know, rationally, I should have expected them. No one comes from a traumatic ordeal unscathed, not even you, you who lit up the rooms in which you walked. You've effectively been stripped of twelve years of your life. And the last two have been spent just trying to live. Of course you're out of touch with social graces.

And yet it is not just you who has changed. I can feel an incredible distance between us- we had been so close, all those years ago, and I suppose we've grown apart. I cannot treat you the way I would have when we knew each other before. I try to read your emotions and gauge your reactions, but I no longer can do such things. You're unfamiliar to me, and I am unfamiliar to you. I am older; I've experienced so much more of a range of things- while your life surely has larger horrors.

It's hard to get to know you all over again. But I'm trying. When I took you in my arms the night you arrived, I ached to tell you what I was really thinking. What I'd been thinking for a year and fighting for thirteen more. That I didn't want to let you go. And that I didn't want you to ever leave.

But my sensibilities held me back, because to reveal such things at that time would have been awkward for you and me both. Even though I didn't really know you, I craved you, and I continue to do so, the more I learn about you. But I can't possibly tell you. Our lives are awkward enough. --

Falling softly, snow. The world outside covered in a thick blanket of white fluff, trees dormant for the season to come, and Christmas barely a week away. Fairy lights adorned several strategic points in the small cottage, and a small tree, covered from trunk to tip in garland and sparkling ornaments, sat proudly in the corner of the parlor. It was a valiant attempt to dispel the feelings of worry and dread that crept at the edges of the consciousness of the cottage's occupants.

At the kitchen table, Remus sat across from Sirius, an old textbook and a pot of tea between them. They had spent considerable time in the last several months brushing up on Sirius's magical prowess- Remus had given him his old wand to use, and it seemed to work well enough to perform basic spells.

Sirius had always been very powerful. In school, his talent had been almost enough for success in many cases. But that snowy afternoon, Remus could see clearly the struggle that Sirius fought to control his power.

Ever since Azkaban, Sirius's magic had been wildly unpredictable. There were times, in the months following Sirius's arrival at Remus's house, that he had shattered windows, unable to keep his frustration from manifesting itself. Remus had taken this in stride- "At least we know it's still there," he told the dismayed wizard. More often than not, Sirius had been unable to perform simple spells. In many cases he had forgotten how to use what had once come so easily to him.

Now they were practicing blocking spells. Sirius had his face hidden in the pages of the textbook, so absorbed in memorizing the instructions that he jumped when Remus asked him if he was ready. Brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, and just the hint of sweat tracing down his temple, Sirius nodded.

"All right then," Remus, in full professor-mode, brandished his wand. "I want you to curse me, and I'll set up a blocking ward that will deflect it. Then the spell will come back at you, and it will be your job to block it completely." Primarily, it was easier to block curses if you knew precisely the feelings made to cast them, so Sirius, in blocking his own magic, would be able to more readily succeed. Sirius thought surely that Remus thought it safer for him to curse himself. At least then there would be no call for retaliation... "Ready?" Sirius asked.

"Ready."

"Rictusempra!" Sirius cried, and the spell shot from his wand. Remus, undaunted, deflected the curse with a series of quick, well-thought movements, and sent it back at Sirius, who tried valiantly to remember the series of movements that would stop the curse altogether.

Unfortunately he landed flat on his back, laughing uncontrollably, and struggling to escape from the thousand fingers that tickled him relentlessly.

"Aaaah! Remus! Help me!"

With a smirk, Remus stood and grinned at him for a second, but then raised his wand. "Finite incantatem," he said. And the fingers stopped.

Sighing in relief, Sirius lay back on the floor. "Damn," he said. "Can you show me the spell, Remus?"

"Of course. It might be simpler for me to show you than reading it..."

He helped Sirius to his feet. "Watch closely," he said. He raised his wand slowly, and traced a pattern in the air. "Like that. And while you do it, think of how you cast the curse, and block those energies you released. Let me see you do it."

Sirius gripped his wand and traced the pattern in the air. "Wait, you missed a turn, Sirius," Remus moved behind him and grasped the hand that held the wand. "Like this," he said, and he guided Sirius's arm in the movements. "Think of it as writing and X, and then immediately an S, all right?"

"Right." The hand that covered his own was warm, as was the body that stood so close behind his. He shivered slightly. Did he imagine that Remus's hand lingered longer than was necessary for demonstration? Yes, he must be imagining things...

"All right, let's give it another go." Remus's voice was lower than normal. He stepped slowly back across the room. --

Falling softly, night. After a grueling game of chess, Sirius and Remus retired for the evening- Sirius to the spare room, and Remus to his bedroom. Not for the first time they both thought about altering the sleeping arrangements, but neither of them mentioned it.

Sirius was very tired, and found that sleep claimed him the moment his dark head hit the pillow. Remus lay awake for quite a while, the light of the waning moon shone directly in through the curtains... it had been full days ago but he still felt it, the wolf wanted something of him and of Sirius; and even though he needed his rest, sleep would not come readily.

Hours later, he was jolted awake by a few of the most desperate cries he'd ever heard.

It was so dark, so dark, the moon wasn't strong enough to penetrate the blackness, nor were there any stars shining in the heavens. Just an all consuming void of black, and he couldn't see, couldn't see anything at all, but he knew there was something there, and he couldn't see it. The being was too familiar to him. He knew exactly what it was, and what it would do to him, but he couldn't see it, he just knew it was so close, and soon it would hit him...

There. His entire body went cold as though he'd been tossed in to the arctic sea, and now he was drowning without any life raft in sight and the cold tore at him, at his heart, and he screamed in terror.

Out of the darkness he heard an echo of his own screams, though whether they were indeed his own or the screams of another he did not know. He fell to his knees in the darkness, reached for something to hold on to but there was nothing. The creature came ever closer to him, and he could feel a wave of nausea and cold wash over him again, and the thing's breath rattled morbidly in the dark. He shut his eyes against the darkness, but it wasn't darkness now, it was swirling mist, and there was James, right in front of him, bleeding, his glasses were shattered on his face and he looked at him with such contempt and pure hatred and he shouted at him and screamed at him for betraying him and his wife and his son He shut his eyes against that too but it was still there, James' face in the swirling mist and the blood was there covering James and it was on his hands too, all over his hands and he couldn't wipe it off and he couldn't ever atone for this and it was so cold and he screamed, and kept screaming until-

"Sirius!!"

No, no, James, it wasn't me, I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm-

"Sirius!" Strong hands grasped his shoulders. "Wake up!"

Suddenly he was wrenched from the dream world, and his eyes scanned the room wildly before locking on to Remus's right in front of him.

"You were dreaming, Sirius," Remus said gently, though his voice shook ever so slightly. His eyes were strikingly gray, fiercely trying to convey something to him, and they looked so old right then... Sirius shuddered violently, and he curled in on himself as he shook. Remus rubbed his back softly with one hand, the other laid unwavering on his shoulder.

"Let me go get you some warm milk," he said softly, and began to withdraw.

Skeletal fingers grasped his wrist with a desperate intensity entirely unfamiliar to the werewolf. "Wait," the beloved voice whispered. "Don't go."

His eyes finished the plea. No, please; don't leave me. Ever. There was a terror in the icy blue depths, eyes too old, eyes that had seen too much for what should have been a young man.

With his free hand Remus tucked a stray lock of hair behind Sirius's ear. The hand, perhaps against Remus's better judgment, smoothed the hair on the dark head. Sirius leaned in to the touch, craving the offer of kindness and care, of which he had been so bereft all these years.

Remus was utterly captivated. The reverence with which Sirius let his eyelids fall shut broke his heart. Simply seeing his old friend in such a state was harrowing- while Sirius was craving friendly touch, Remus could definitely feel reservations. Sirius was trembling with fear, whether it be of rejection, or simply of being touched Remus was unsure.

Tentatively he moved to sit on the bed beside Sirius. His arms slowly encircled Sirius's thin frame, which tensed immediately at the embrace.

"Shh, Sirius, it's all right," Remus said softly. His hands traced slow circles on Sirius's back, and slowly, so slowly, the shattered man relaxed against the warmth of Remus's body. After a moment two bony arms reached around Remus, and skeletal fingers clutched at his shoulders. Sirius's head fell in to the crook of Remus's neck, and again, the too-thin frame began to tremble. Remus continued his stroking, moving one hand to lie in Sirius's hair. "You're all right. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere." --

The following morning dawned bright and clear, and Remus woke early to find Sirius still wrapped in his arms, and discovered, to no surprise of his, that he was in no hurry to leave the bed. Sirius was here, right next to him, in this bed, looking drawn and very pale. He lay and watched him for long moments, then decided a better course of action would be to get up and cook him some breakfast.

Reluctantly he disentangled himself from the sleeping form of the man he loved, stroked his hair softly, and left the room before Sirius woke and the situation became awkward. He padded softly to the kitchen, casting warming charms as he went, and put water on to boil for hot cocoa. Then he scoured the cabinets for something to cook, finally settling on bacon and potatoes.

A few moments later Sirius entered the kitchen, his face still pale, but his expression eased when it rested on Remus. He moved to sit at the table.

"Good morning, how are you feeling?" Remus asked softly. "All right. Thank you, Remus," he nearly whispered, his voice was hoarse.

Remus poured hot water and added the cocoa for him, and passed it to him complete with a peppermint candy cane to stir in. "Tis the season," he said, grinning, "drink up."

Sirius let the warm liquid trail down his raw throat and warm him from the inside.

"I need to go in to London today for an errand- I'm afraid you're on your own for a while. Is there anything I can get you?" Remus asked.

"Can't think of anything. I've ordered Harry's Christmas present by owl, and I believe I'm all set. Sure you're ready to leave the house alone with me?" He asked, a grin spreading slowly across his face.

Remus smiled. "I do hope it will be in one piece when I return," he said. "Very well then, I should be back around four. Behave yourself, Padfoot." Remus laid a hand gently on Sirius's shoulder as he walked past, and left the house. --

Diagon Alley was abuzz with the festivity of the season- everywhere Remus looked, shop windows were lit merrily, witches and wizards carried brightly wrapped packages, every surface was covered with red and green of some sort. It was a wonderful sight, but probably overwhelming to the uninitiated. Remus smiled softly, that faint grin that managed to make all the ladies (and Sirius) look twice without effort.

The snow fell gently from the sky, and was caught in little eddies as it neared the street. Soon Remus's hair was dusted with snowflakes, and they kept landing on the tip of his nose. He always had loved the snow, but he didn't linger. He walked purposefully down the Alley to Ollivander's.

"Makers of fine wands," he muttered to himself. "Yes, indeed," and with that gentle smile he entered the shop.

Remus loved the smell of Ollivander's shop. It was very similar to the pages of a particularly old, well-read book, and sharp with magic. A little bell tinkled somewhere in the back of the shop as Remus shut the door behind him.

A moment later Mr. Ollivander emerged from between the shelves of wands.

"Ah, young Master Lupin," he said, his eyes shining kindly behind horn-rimmed spectacles. "What can I do for you this fine day? Not ready for a replacement yet, are you? That wand of yours is barely three years old, am I right? Mahogany and phoenix feather, if I'm not mistaken." Ollivander was rarely mistaken. "A very powerful wand, in the hand of a very powerful wizard! Has it served you well?" "Yes, sir, it's an excellent wand. And no, I haven't come to replace it. I've come to purchase a wand for someone."

"I see that you are alone... this is a surprise, I take it?"

"Yes. I do realize that what we choose may not be the perfect match, but my friend is... ah... unable to visit, himself, and I thought that a wand would make a perfect gift for him."

"Very well. We shall do our best. Now. I want you to keep this person strong and clear in your mind while we sample wands. It isn't the ideal situation, but it will help to find a good match in this case." He disappeared for a moment in to the bowels of his shop and emerged with a stack of wands, several boxes high. He set them down upon the counter.

"Now then. Let's get started, shall we? Here's a fine wand, maple and phoenix feather, twelve inches, very whippy," he handed Remus the wand.

Thinking clearly of Sirius, Remus took the wand, and waved it lightly. A couple of unenthusiastic sparks jumped from the tip. "No, that won't do, what was I thinking?"

They went through several more wands, a few tingled Remus's fingers with their power. But none were right...

"No, no, no... That will never do," Ollivander said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a long index finger. "What you need is something powerful but very responsive, something good for transfiguration, definitely, but not lacking in defensive magic or any other field."

Remus was slightly unnerved by Ollivander's knowledge of what Sirius needed. "Er... yes," he said.

Ollivander returned to the shelves and reached for several different wands, withdrawing his hand, his mouth forming a distinct "no" each time, before reaching one he was prepared to try again.

"Give this one a go," he said.

Remus waved the wand and a smile curved its way across Ollivander's lips. A warmth crept in to his fingers, and a fantastic spray of light burst from the tip.

"Ah, yes. That will do nicely. Twelve and a half inches.

Rowan and dragon heartstring. An excellent wand... very powerful..." He smiled enigmatically and took the wand from Remus. "Would you like it gift-wrapped?"

"Yes, please," Remus smiled.

Ollivander put the wand gently on its pillow of green velvet inside the wooden box and proceeded to trim it with bright red paper and a piece of green and gold ribbon. He handed Remus the package, and Remus paid him for it in gold, tucked the wand in his cloak, and turned to leave.

"Give Mr. Black my regards," he said cheerily. Remus eyed him disconcertedly, then, seeing only an amused glint in the wand maker's merry face, smiled back and left the shop with only a slight feeling of unease. 

\--

A few hours later, the shops in Diagon Alley thoroughly explored, Remus stopped for butterbeer in the Leaky Cauldron. He apparated home moments later, hands full of packages and the warm drinks.

"Sirius?" He called softly. The house was quiet... odd. He walked in to the living room, where Sirius was busy charming fairy lights on to every available surface. Upon further inspection, Remus noticed the same treatment in the kitchen and his study, and suspected the same true of his bedroom as well. He cleared his throat, attempting to look stern when Sirius turned around. Sirius grinned at him. Remus tried to keep the stern façade... but the damn corners of his mouth wouldn't stay put!

"Merry Christmas, Moony!" Sirius said, with the enthusiasm of someone far younger than he. The sentiment was so earnest that Remus couldn't help but burst out laughing. And Sirius laughed with him. "Oh, you've brought me a drink, Moony, how lovely! I've been working hard, I could use one."

Remus raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Working?" But he passed the butterbeer to Sirius and relished the happy mood he was in. It was wonderful to see Sirius playing tricks again. It wasn't until too long ago that he'd really even found humor in anything-an occasional wry remark from Remus had been met with silence... it seemed he knew it should have been funny, but couldn't draw laughter from himself. Remus smiled at the high jinks, and vowed to reciprocate in full force. --

Sirius stood under the hot spray of the shower and talked to himself. He wouldn't call it that, naturally; he liked to think of it as rehearsing. He'd done a lot of thinking today, with Remus out shopping and nothing to really entertain himself with. Remus's taste in books was too stuffy for leisure, so he'd been forced to wreak havoc. Ah, well. The look on Remus's face was worth the hours of tedious spellwork.

"Remus, I've been thinking..." he began, under his breath. "I... we need to talk. No... that's too... ugh. Remus, I... need to tell you something... I can't hold it back any longer because it's going to drive me crazy, and I want to get this off of my chest so that I can at least know what you think. Maybe once I tell you it will be easier to be around you, without getting this horrible ache inside me for having never told you. That's bollocks, Black, and you know it. Why does this sound so ridiculous? Should I just come out and say it? Or is that too forward?" He sighed. "It's never going to get said if I'm blathering on about how I shouldn't say it.

"All right then. Remus, I... have to talk to you about something..." --

Remus finished placing his purchases in all their wrapped glory under the Christmas tree. He'd left the fairy lights... they made the room so much more festive.

He glanced at the package that held Sirius's new wand. He'd be completely shocked. He couldn't wait to see the look on his face... He'd done some thinking while wandering Diagon Alley today. And he decided that no matter how much he loved Sirius, deep in his heart, telling him would be a terrible idea. He was trying to reassemble his life, he was already so fragile anyway, adding another burden would be cruel. Sirius didn't need to have the added awkwardness of knowing that his best friend was deeply in love with him. Sure, telling him the truth would ease some of Remus's own pain, because he could feel the wolf; ever yearning to be set free inside him. The wolf loved Sirius as well. It wanted to love Sirius. But that wasn't the question. Sirius had been through so much already that Remus would gladly bear this burden alone and silently in order to preserve their friendship.

He loved Sirius so deeply that the very thought of it made him ache. There was no way that he would ever return the same feelings. Sirius loved him as a friend, close to the only friend he had left, and a brother. But as a lover? No. There had never been any reason to think that what he felt could only be returned in the stuff of dreams. In the night he could fully orchestrate his desires, whisper his thoughts to the darkness and imagine those deep blue eyes staring in to his own, that dark hair close enough to twine his fingers in. Only in the night, in his dreams.

\--

Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation; the setting sun gives the world a golden glow and darkness creeps across the landscape.

With the coming of the night the wolf creeps closer to the surface as well. His presence is a constant always, but when the sun turns its mastery of the heavens over to the moon, the wolf becomes more prominent in Remus. The darkness stirs and wakes imagination. The wolf feels the presence of their desired one. You know we want him, Remus. Let us have him. Imagine how wonderful it would be... Silently the senses abandon their defenses... and all of a sudden Remus can smell Sirius everywhere. Where his hand touched the kitchen drawers. The path he walked to cross to the table. Where his hands laid as he read the paper. You're helpless to resist the notes I write, Remus. You may be in charge of the day... but I've composed the music of the night. Listen for it. You can hear it in every movement he makes. The rhythm of our heartbeat with the melody of our thoughts, and always the underlying harmony of desire. Listen for it. Trust it...

Sirius enters the kitchen, his face again pale. "Remus?" he says softly, his voice emerging slowly, gently. Night unfurls its splendor, Remus. Here he is... The sound of his voice held a hint of deep resonance, richly inlaid with overtones, and only the sharp senses of the wolf could detect the different notes and registers through the quiet. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. He's right here... fall in to the timbre of his beautiful voice, let me claim him for us... Turn your face away from the garish light of day! The cold, unfeeling light! Listen, to the music of the night...

Remus shook his head to clear it from the voice of the wolf, which was always a bit frustrated at the man's ability to keep him on a tight rein. "Good evening, Sirius."

"I..." He dropped his gaze to his hands, which were clutching and twisting a cloth napkin. "I need to talk to you about something." Remus motioned for him to sit at the table, where he joined him immediately. He sat, looking intently at Sirius, willing his gaze away from the napkin and back on to his face. "I'm listening," he said, once he could see his eyes clearly. "What's wrong?"

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. But I haven't really had the balls to say it to you..." he trailed off.

"You know you can tell me anything, Sirius." How bad can it be? he thought.

Sirius looked directly at him and a faint trace of smile flitted across his worried features.

Look at him, he wants us, can't you hear it? Listen, carefully, for the music. It's a counterpoint to our own! Your music is deceiving, Remus thought harshly at the wolf. Whatever he wanted to say was clearly very difficult for him. He kept opening his mouth and ceasing before his vocal cords could vibrate.

"Sirius?"

"I... Remus... I'm." He clenched his teeth, and a look of fierce determination sparked in his eyes. "I'm... I love you, Remus."

Hearing is believing!

A realization hit Remus hard as lightning, then softened to the flicker of candlelight. Sirius's eyes were wide with terror, until a gentle smile spread across Remus's lips.

Dare I? Trust the music of the night... He can't be speaking the truth... Then close your eyes, and listen! In the dark it is easy to pretend that the truth is what it ought to be. You don't trust me, you don't trust his words... listen more carefully and you will hear the truth. Surrender to our darkest dreams! Let your spirit start to soar... I promise you will live as we've never lived before... "Oh my god," Remus whispered. He let the words replay in his mind and let them wash over him, and they resonated just as beautifully as the first time. Softly, deftly the words caressed his ears. Hear it, feel it secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight! The darkness of the music of the night...

And suddenly he opened his eyes and stared at Sirius. "I... have wanted to tell you the same thing, Sirius." He took a deep breath. "I love you too."

He closed his eyes, began a journey through a strange new world- a world in which he could love Sirius and have the love returned! Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before! Close your eyes and let music set you free! He reached across the table and took Sirius's trembling hand in his own. "I love you too."

The grin that wreathed Sirius's face was more vibrant and brilliant than one he'd seen in years. Tentatively he spoke again. "Then... can you belong to me?" Immediately he wished to rephrase. "No. I... I could never own you. I just... I want to be yours, and you to be mine, and..."

Remus cut him off with fingers against his lips. "I know. I feel it too, Sirius." He stood and in an instant was beside Sirius, and pulled him to his feet also. They embraced intensely, and Sirius trembled against him.

Sirius pulled back from the embrace slightly, just enough to look deep in to his eyes. "You do, don't you..."

And Remus knew exactly to what he referred. "Yes, I do."

Then Sirius's lips were on Remus's, so soft and supple and There, and he opened his lips slightly to feel more of him. He was floating, falling, it was such sweet intoxication. He laid a hand in Sirius's hair as Sirius ran his hands along Remus's back, slowly at first, and quickening as their kiss deepened. Touch me, his hands begged, while his lips and tongue said Trust me, and they savored each sensation they created. Their hands explored thoroughly places which had until now been only imagined.

It was so slow at first, and tentative, it was akin to the clear sound of the oboe tuning the orchestra. As they accustomed themselves to the wonderful feeling of being so close, and the relief of finding similar feelings in the other sunk in, the strings added to the sound, and the brass, and the woodwinds. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the harmony which dreams alone can write! The power of the music of the night... It was glorious, the sounds building harmonically inside their heads and they could hear them, all of them, from the deepest timbres to the high, clarion voices.

Sirius pulled from the deep, sucking kiss- not far, but it stopped for a moment. His eyes still shut with the weight of his luxurious lashes, he whispered, against Remus's lips, "You alone can make my song take flight," and the reverence in his voice made a thrill run through them both.

"Please, help me make the music of the night..." Remus replied. He claimed Sirius's lips with all the passion he felt and the kiss was heady. An entire symphony compressed in to the way they touched, a fugue of passion rising marvelously. 

\--

A while later, once they'd pried themselves apart, they sat again at the kitchen table, separated by a pot of tea. They'd talked for a long while to sort things out, and were astonished to discover that each had longed to speak of love but feared to do so for sake of awkwardness. When the hour grew ever later they retired to the same bedroom, content to simply lie in each others' arms and kiss softly and touch until sleep claimed them both.

\--

When Christmas day dawned crisp and bright they rose late. They had lain in each others' embrace for hours, both unwilling to leave the warmth of the bed, falling in and out of slumber until the sun was rising higher and higher in the sky and it would soon be to late for breakfast.

Sirius had fallen back asleep when Remus decided to rise. He kissed Sirius's brow before emerging and padded softly across the room so as not to wake him.

He wasn't in the kitchen alone long before Sirius came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his thin frame. The warmth of his hard body was delicious, and he moaned softly at the contact. Sirius pressed a warm, wet kiss to his neck.

"Happy Christmas, love," Remus said softly.

"Mmmhhhh, happy Christmas." Breathed in to his neck.

They ate a full English breakfast, and later, full and happy, Remus led Sirius to the living room and they sat on the floor before the Christmas tree. There were few packages beneath it, but then, there were few occupants of the house.

Sirius reached beneath the tree first and presented Remus with a small package.

"Sirius, you didn't have to..."

"Open it." He commanded softly.

Remus untied the ribbon and gently removed the wrapping. Sirius rolled his eyes at the pace. When he'd finally opened the box, a pair of beautiful dragon-shaped bookends peered out at him. "I thought they'd go well on the bookcase in this room, where you keep your dragon defense and the fifteen books for each use of dragon's blood-"

"Twelve, Sirius. Twelve uses." He smiled brightly. "They really are beautiful..." They were carven from birchwood, and painted delicately in a fashion somewhat reminiscent of the orient. As he picked them up the left one snorted a bit of smoke. "They're not going to light the books on fire, are they, Sirius?"

"No, I promise. Just the occasional smoke!"

"Thank you," he said. Then he reached for the small box wrapped in bright red paper and a green and gold ribbon. He presented it to Sirius without ceremony, and sat nervously while he fiddled with removing the ribbon.

As soon as the ribbon was out of the way (Ollivander had charmed it so that it must be untied, not torn), he ripped the paper off quickly and was greeted with the dark, polished wood of the box. He raised his eyebrow, the shape of the box betraying its contents, but Sirius was unsure what to think.

His hands shook as he opened the clasp and raised the lid. There, upon a pillow of deep green velvet, lay the polished rowan wood of Sirius's new wand. He drew a breath and held it.

"Oh, Remus..." he said, incredulous.

"Rowan and dragon heartstring," Remus told him. "I know that it may not be the best match, but you couldn't very well go to Ollivander's and try wands..." he let his voice taper off as he studied the reverent look on Sirius's face.

"I... oh, god... Thank you..." His voice was thick with emotion. "Well, give it a try, then," Remus said lightly.

Sirius's trembling fingers stroked the handle of the wand, and then wrapped around it and lifted it from its box. The power of it tingled his fingers, he could feel it coursing through him. He stared at the wand in awe for a moment or two. He then conjured a ball of flames, and put them out after staring once more.

He then summoned and banished several books, and the response of the wand was flawless. It seemed to anticipate his words, it responded to the magic he thought of.

"Remus, this is incredible. It's perfect... I don't know how to thank you..."

"Think nothing of it, Padfoot old friend," and he took Sirius's free hand in his own.

Sirius rested the wand in its box and moved to kiss Remus, long and slow and sweet.

\--

That evening they sat on the couch before the fire, a large, thick blanket over their legs and steaming mugs of cocoa in their hands. For a while they were content to sit, mesmerized by the flickering flames as they lapped hungrily at the wood. The fire crackled merrily. The piney smell of the Christmas tree, fresh in their nostrils, mingled with the cocoa and the warm smoky scent of the fire made them deliciously drowsy, and they listened in the distance for the carolers, making their way through the streets of the town spread sparsely below the cottage. Faint strains of O Holy Night haunted the air.

Sirius removed his hand from the warmth of his mug of cocoa, setting it beside Remus's on the table beside them, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind Remus's ear. The play of the firelight across his face was compelling, and when Remus turned to look in his eyes he ran his fingertips over his features. Remus cupped his cheek with his hand, and Sirius turned slightly to kiss his palm. He dragged his lower lip across it and feathered his lips over Remus's fingertips.

Remus cupped the back of his head and, pulling him close, brushed his lips against Sirius's. Like their first, the kiss began slowly, and as the intensity increased they drew closer together until Sirius lay sprawled atop Remus and they kissed hungrily. Their mouths slanted across each other and sealed, and their tongues explored eagerly every facet they could reach. They delved so deep that their teeth hit, but still it was not enough. They could never get enough, and they kissed so passionately that it seemed they would never cease. The kiss was not frantic, but it was gloriously thorough, and as they breathed each other's breath their hands roved across unexplored flesh, sneaking inside robes to connect with warm skin.

They came to a mutual decision that this was good, and that more of it was indeed necessary, and mere seconds later they lay on the couch with their bare chests pressed flush, clad only in their underwear. Loving hands stroked the entire length of Remus's torso, and Remus's hands were splayed across Sirius's back, stroking, pressing, nails scratching lightly at shoulderblades.

"Oh, God," Sirius moaned, between kisses.

"Yes. I want you, Sirius, please..." Also between kisses. Remus's voice was breathy and it dropped octaves.

"Mmmmhhh, ohh, yes..."

The kiss broke abruptly, neither completely sure that it should entirely cease. Sirius's lips nibbled across Remus's lightly stubbled jaw, and down the column of his throat to rest wetly, openmouthed, at his collarbone. Remus moaned softly and encouraged Sirius with his hands, running them along his back and finding the most pleasurable places. There; below his left shoulder, the sides of his neck, the small of his back.

Sirius's lips continued their downward journey. His hands continued stroking as well, teasing their way lower before moving back up. He kissed a circle around Remus's nipple before the insistent moans he made forced him to take it full in his mouth. His tongue laved the bud of flesh, his teeth nipped it lightly, and Remus writhed beneath him, a puddle of moaning, gasping, aroused werewolf. Perhaps not quite a puddle, because what was now resting against his stomach was rather hard and un-puddle-like. Yet. He rubbed his own hardness against Remus's thigh.

Remus grasped his hair and pulled him up to satisfy his hungry lips once more. "Ohhh, I love you, Sirius... I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," moist lips against his ear. They nibbled lightly on his earlobe before taking the shell of his ear softly, cleverly in his teeth.

"Make love to me?" Remus breathed, in to Sirius's own ear. Sirius stilled his ministrations and pulled back to look him full in the face. "Yes," he said, and claimed his lips. Remus pressed his hips up against Sirius's, rubbing their cocks together in delicious friction. The insistent ache that had grown in his groin panged sharply, and he wanted more of it, so he thrust against those hips and they moved together for a moment. Panting sharply, Sirius pushed himself up on his hands and rubbed himself against Remus, gazing in to his face. Upon it was painted a look of such ecstasy that Sirius would have been content to die right then and there.

He decided that to keep this up would be much more pleasurable, however.

Remus pushed Sirius's boxers off his hips, a look of relief crossing that beautiful face as some of the pressure was eased. Soon he was free of his own, and their erections touched with a nearly unbearable heat.

Then Sirius pulled away and sat on Remus's legs.

"I don't think I can hold out much longer like that, love," he said. He drank the sight of his lover- yes, lover... amazing- spread out on the couch before him. The firelight danced across the soft flesh, shone across his hair. His eyes traced the line of coarse curls down his abdomen to where they gathered so nicely at his groin, and then he admired the beautiful erection that laid there. He bent and buried his face where thigh met torso, and his tongue snuck out to taste the salty flesh, drawing a sharp gasp from Remus.

He nuzzled closer to the throbbing length, while still managing to avoid touching it. Remus had to admire his willpower. Then his nose brushed against his tightening balls, and he couldn't really think about anything else. His tongue snuck out to taste that too, and, satisfied with the taste, he thoroughly worshipped them with his tongue before moving to the length of Remus's cock.

Remus was beyond words. The feel of Sirius's tongue doing such wonderful things to his testicles nearly undid him, and he tried valiantly to conjugate latin verbs until the tongue crept up the length of his shaft. He moaned, and nearly incoherent words of encouragement erupted from his throat, and when Sirius's mouth closed around the head of his cock, his hips bucked clear off the couch. "God!!" He cried, hoarsely. "Oh, yes, oh, Sirius, please, do it, take me in your mouth..."

And he did. His lips crawled down the shaft, pulling it deeper in to his mouth and in to his throat as well as he could without gagging. He'd never really done this before, but he somehow knew how to please Remus, and he understood the mechanics of it. He pulled back to the very tip and laved it with his tongue, and ran his tongue around the rim while Remus writhed beneath him. Then all the way back down, and a little deeper in his throat, and soon Remus was thrusting in to his mouth. Sirius withdrew to the head once more, and wrapped a hand around the base, and relished the feel of the hardness in his hand as he stroked his lover's cock. His mouth teased the head while his hand moved up and down the shaft, and Remus was so close... Remus cried out as Sirius grasped his cock, and all he could comprehend after that was that his cock was in Sirius's mouth, and it was so wonderful, and so hot, and he was going to come any moment... There. With one final squeeze of Sirius's hand Remus exploded in to that wonderful, hot mouth, his seed flowing down Sirius's throat. He licked it up greedily, the taste of Remus making him even harder.

Remus could feel every motion of that tongue as it pulled every drop of his essence from him. He collapsed against the cushions, so thoroughly enjoyed and aware of it too. He watched from behind lowered eyelids as Sirius spat some of his own come in to his hands and God, he covered his own erection with it, and Remus felt the familiar and not-at-all unwelcome stirrings of further desire. His orgasm had been perhaps the most intense one of his life, but as he watched Sirius he was definitely not spent.

Sirius lowered himself over Remus and kissed his mouth again. Remus could taste himself mixed with the taste of Sirius, and his arousal hummed warmly in his belly once more. He clutched at Sirius's back and spread his legs, twining them around Sirius's own.

Sirius broke the kiss and put his fingers in his mouth, slicking them with his saliva. Remus grasped his wrist and pulled it away, then opened his mouth and suckled the fingers himself. He felt Sirius harden further, and a thrill ran up his spine at the thought of being impaled on his lover.

Once he was satisfied that they were thoroughly wet, he let the fingers fall from his mouth. Sirius trailed his hand down Remus's body, which twitched as his hand touched the sensitized flesh. He pressed his fingers softly at Remus's opening, and eased one in. "It's all right, love, just relax," he said, and slowly prepared him, stretching, scissoring, and his fingers found Remus's prostate.

Remus shuddered at the welcome invasion, and gasped when the fingers kept stroking. "Oh, my God, Sirius," he panted. "That's so... ohhhhh..." He threw his head back and gave himself over to the sensations.

When Sirius thought he was ready he removed his fingers and rested his hips against Remus's- God, he was hard again- he caught his gaze and their eyes locked, pupils dilated with arousal. "Do it, Sirius," Remus said.

So slowly, he pushed his trembling cock inside. He was amazed that he'd held out this long, his arousal was painful, but the pain turned to intense pleasure as he was sheathed deeper and deeper in to that tight warmth. Soon he was buried to the hilt, and Remus clenched around him and he gasped.

He smiled down at Remus and bent to kiss him again, so full of love and lust that he nearly could not bear it. Remus tilted his hips up and wrapped his legs around his waist to pull him in deeper, and grasped his shoulders.

Soon Sirius had to move. While he relished the intimacy of that moment, he couldn't stand to hold back any more. He thrust slow and shallowly at first, and soon the strokes were long and deep. He pressed his cheek against Remus's and kissed the side of his face, and he felt, somewhere in the foggy haze that the world had turned to, Remus's lips trailing feverishly the length of his throat. They moved together, Remus meeting him thrust for thrust.

"I love you, Remus, I love you... love you," a low, crooning murmur in to his neck.

Remus answered with wet kisses at his temple. "I love you..." They moved faster and faster, a bit awkwardly at times but it was still so good. Soon Sirius was lunging in to him, and Remus let his lips rest where the muscles of Sirius's neck met shoulder. He nibbled softly as they moved, and then, when he felt Sirius and he both nearing completion, he sank his teeth in to that beautiful flesh.

The pain was exquisite, and Sirius cried out. He thrust hard once more and came hard, the world bursting in to white hot shards and falling around him for Remus to gather up. Somewhere around him Remus echoed his cries, and spilled his seed against their stomachs. They lay gasping, panting in each other's arms for long moments, whispering disjointed reassurances of truest love. One of them, probably Remus, had the sense to retrieve the blanket from the floor and cover them with it, for they might have been cold upon waking the next morning. They languished in each other's embrace and fell peacefully asleep, the promise of forever on their lips.


End file.
